


The Fine Print

by Nazmuko



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Finding their way back to each other, Tragedy, separated, tw: death of a child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 02:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14583378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nazmuko/pseuds/Nazmuko
Summary: In sickness and in health, they had promised in their wedding vows. But neither of them had read the fine print that the sickness might not be theirs but they would have to watch it from the sidelines.





	The Fine Print

**Author's Note:**

> It's been forever since I've written SG-1, but I was going through my folder of unfinished fics and this one sparked my interest. It's been four years in the works but now it's here, to be shared with you.
> 
> This story comes with a trigger warning about death of a child, and I apologize to everyone who has ever had to go through that tragedy. I've never even had children let alone lost one, and I can't even imagine the pain. Yet here I am, trying to write about it. 
> 
> I'd love to thank my friend Achanqaray for being my beta, tearing this story apart and helping put it back together again. And most of all, for repeating over and over again that it was worth writing and sharing. All mistakes are mine, though.

"You've gained weight."

The voice came a few feet behind her, but she had recognized his steps on the gravel pathway the moment he was within earshot.

The words sounded a little hesitant but still painfully familiar, and Sam couldn't ignore the absurdity of the situation. They had both been avoiding this place like the plague, yet here they were, and those were his first words. It made sense, though, because she had been merely a skeleton the last time he saw her.

She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a little smile. "And you've grown a beard." She had to wipe her hair back behind her ears because the wind blew it all over her face when she turned a little.

It was early September, a little chilly already, threat of fall hanging in the air. She liked the idea of a winter coming, it seemed to fit with her mood a lot better than the blooming fields and ripening fruits.

"I meant it as a compliment."

"So did I."

She always liked him with a beard and even now she was craving to lay her palm against the roughness on his cheek but she didn't have that right anymore. She watched how he lay some wild flowers, mostly daisies, on the tombstone. Then he placed a bunch of grapes next to it and Sam's giggle got mixed with a sob.

Jack's hand found its way to her lower back and drew a few comforting circles but then froze and slowly pulled away. Neither of them seemed to know the rules to the situation they found themselves in.

"She always loved grapes," Sam found herself saying, just to fill the heavy silence that had fallen.

"I can't remember much she _didn't_ love."

"Olives," Sam whispered, remembering the way their daughter's face had crunched up in disgust when she had insisted on tasting an olive from her mother's salad.

" _Nobody_ likes olives."

"I like olives."

"You don't count. You're a genius. You like weird things."

Sam smiled but failed to come up with a clever comeback. The banter was bit awkward, from lack of practice, but still so familiar it made her chest ache.

"So, uh..." Jack said and kicked at a small stone that was sitting in front of his shoe. "You wanna get some coffee or something?"

Sam drew in a deep, shaky breath and closed her eyes for a moment. Was she ready for this? Him? Stepping into that house again?

"We can go to a cafe somewhere," Jack suggested, sensing her hesitation.

"No," Sam sighed. "Let's go-" _home?_ What do you call the house you ran away from when the laughter turned to sadness? "I think we need privacy if we're planning to talk."

"I'd be happy with just the coffee, Sam. If you're not ready for the talking."

There he was again, building bridges for her, making amends though he had done nothing wrong.

"Please, Jack," she said instead and he nodded.

"You wanna lead the way?"

He didn't trust her to follow, not anymore. He had a very good reason for that but it still hurt to hear him make that request out loud.

"No," she shook her head. She couldn't just cruise through the town and park in that driveway like she belonged there. "But I promise I'll follow you." She lowered her hand on his forearm briefly, hoping to reassure him, but she wasn't sure whether the contact was welcome anymore.

* * *

They were silent as they made their way through the house and into the kitchen. Jack got the coffee started and leaned against the counter while Sam sat down at the table, absentmindedly playing with the edge of the tablecloth. The bubbling of the coffee maker filled the silence just fine, and they could gather their thoughts a little longer.

"I'm sorry," Sam finally said when Jack sat down across the table and they were both staring into their coffee cups. She stirred her drink slowly, trying to cool it down a little. She drank hers black and bitter nowadays, but it sounded like such a cliché to say it out loud that she had let Jack rummage through the cabinet for the sweeteners she used to buy.

"So am I," Jack said, his voice soft.

"I'm the one who..." Collapsed? Stopped living? Stopped talking, sleeping and eating?

"I wasn't there for you."

Sam shook her head, vigorously. He had lost a child for the second time, yet she had forced him to be the strong one, to keep her upright when he was crumbling into pieces inside.

"You did everything you could but I left you alone in it all. We were supposed to be there for each other. That's how it's supposed to go. And I'm sorry. So sorry."

In sickness and in health, they had promised in their wedding vows. But neither of them had read the fine print that the sickness might not be theirs but they would have to watch it from the sidelines.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice kind and curious, but also hesitant, scared of the answer.

"I don't know," she answered, honestly. She was starting to feel a little too warm in her jacket but she wasn't sure if she dared to take it off just yet. There was a reason why she came back to Springs, more than their daughter's birthday, but she wasn't sure if this was the time or the place. Finally Sam took a deep breath again, then a sip of her coffee, and lowered the cup on the table again.

"Did you come here to ask for divorce?" Jack asked and took her by surprise.

"Till death do us apart," she whispered, more to herself than to him. She hadn't thought of divorce, not really. She had left because she had to get away and now she came back because she needed to tell him something. She hadn't stopped to think what would happen after. The thought never occurred to her that quitting was an option. It never had been before.

"In all honesty, Carter, I think that's exactly what happened to us." Jack was whispering as well, like they were trying hard not to disturb someone but there was no one in the house to hear them anymore. She didn't miss the fact that he had called her Carter, like he was ignoring the fact that she was Mrs O'Neill now, his wife. She was sure he hadn't done it on purpose but it stung, a lot.

"I didn't come to ask for divorce," she admitted, staring into her cup of coffee. She really shouldn't be drinking anything with caffeine but she needed it, the little buzz that made her feel alive for a moment. "But if that's what _you_ want, I can sign the paper."

"Why did you come, then?"

She closed her eyes for moment and tried to gather her thoughts. She didn't open them when she whispered her confession.

"I'm pregnant. Five months."

There had been one night, filled with passion and grief that they took out on each others bodies the day after the funeral. It had seemed like a healthy reaction then, a physical connection when the words refused to come, but it soon became obvious that even time couldn't bring the words they needed to mourn together.

First she stopped sleeping. She moved out to the guest room so she wouldn't bother him with her tossing and turning. Then she stopped eating. In the end all she did was stare at the ceiling. She left, a month after the funeral, and stared at the ceiling in her brother's guest room for the next month, simply because she had to get away from the memories and familiar scents, the hollow shell of a home, before she suffocated.

She hadn't realize she was pregnant before the bump started to show, which was quite early on in her body that had the fat percentage of a skeleton at that point. Since then she'd tried to make the effort to take care of herself. It wasn't going very well but she was trying.

Jack's expression went completely blank. The sad smile melted away, even that little frown between his brows straightened. His face seemed void of any emotions, and Sam could understand that feeling very well.

"There's no way we'll know for sure," Sam whispered. "And I understand if you don't want to take the risk." Everything had seemed normal in Gracie's ultrasounds, they only found out about her heart problem when she was born. Even with all the alien technology at their disposal there was nothing they could do but wait for a transplant. So they had spent four years hoping someone else would lose their child so they could keep theirs. But Grace never got the new heart she needed, and finally hers had given up one Tuesday afternoon.

"What does that mean?" Jack asked and cleared his throat. "If I don't want to take the risk?"

"You can walk out."

"And where does that leave you?"

"Alone, with a kid we never planned," she replied honestly.

"Is that what you came here to tell?"

"You deserve to know." She didn't like his tone, the cold edge it had. Either anger or pain, she couldn't be sure. "I've been gathering courage for a couple of months to even get the words _I'm pregnant_ out of my mouth, Jack. I didn't think further than that."

"OK," he sighed and finally allowed the emotions to sneak onto his face again. Pain, definitely pain. And sadness, too. A tiny bit of longing in his eyes. "Where are you staying?"

"Nowhere," she answered honestly. She hadn't even taken a suitcase with her, just her purse, when she called a taxi to the airport and got herself on the flight to Colorado. "I didn't make any plans. I'm still not... _here,_ Jack." In the same reality with him was what she meant but she didn't know how to explain it.

"Do you want me to call Daniel? Or can you stay here?"

 _Can_ you stay here. Not, _do you want to stay here_ , but _can you_ , as in, _are you physically able to stay in this house without falling apart_.

"I'd like to try," she answered.

"Guest room?"

Sam shook her head. She'd slip back into that dark place if she had to see that ceiling ever again. She had missed sharing a bed with him, even though she knew it wouldn't be the same.

"I can take the couch if you don't want me in your bed," Sam said, looking him in the eye for once.

"Christ..." he sighed and ran his hand down his face. "We bought that bed together, Sam."

She just stared at him, waiting for a black and white answer, yes or no, because that wasn't either.

"Of course you can stay."

"Do you mind if I take a nap now? I'm... exhausted."

* * *

Dinner was a quiet event. Sam was struggling with the food, very aware that she was eating smaller portions than she should have. She kept swirling the fork in the spaghetti, almost playing with it. Suddenly she remembered that was exactly what Grace used to do and the fork fell on the plate with a soft _cling_ that sounded awfully loud in the silent house.

"Some days I miss her so much I want to die." The words escaped her lips without conscious thought, her eyes still glued on the fork and the stained table cloth.

"Lucky you." Jack's words sounded empty somehow. Not angry, not sarcastic, none of the emotions she was expecting.

She wanted to scream and yell at him, to demand him to explain himself. Lucky? How dare he call this lucky. Instead the word came out as a whispered question: "Lucky?"

"For me it's most days."

He lifted his gaze to her face, their eyes meeting for a briefest moment before he turned his attention to the plates. He got up and cleaned them away without a word. No need to ask, it was obvious neither of them was going to finish their meals. He walked past her to the sink and she didn't turn to follow him with her gaze.

"Some days I missed you even more than her," he whispered somewhere behind her and Sam could feel hot tears burning her eyes. She hadn't cried nearly enough considering everything that happened. She felt more empty than sad most of the time, but now the pain was burning in her chest, making her take a deep breath to ease the ache in her lungs when the first tear rolled down onto her cheek.

"Because you were... You _were_. Out there. _Alive._ Somewhere _._ When you could have been here," he continued.

"I can leave." Apologies were useless. No amount of them could fix what she had broken. All she could do was make it easier for him from this point forward. Perhaps it had been a mistake to return to Colorado Springs.

"Don't you dare," he hissed and then the anger faded into resigned sigh. "I can't..." His voice broke a little. "I went through this alone once and I can't do it again, Sam. It's different because this time I got to say goodbye but it's..."

They had talked about it when Gracie was still alive, about letting go slowly instead of having their child ripped from them unexpectedly. In a way they had been saying goodbye from the day she was born. It's hard to describe what it's like, to love someone more and more every day yet at the same time slowly accept the fact that you won't get to keep them. It brings an intensity to every moment, a sharp clarity that this moment won't happen ever again. And that makes mundane everyday things unique and cherished somehow. Yet when the moment comes... it's still sudden. Sam had been praying for one more moment for so long and she'd always gotten one. And then suddenly there were none left.

She turned sideways in her chair so she could look at Jack.

"I can't do this without you," he said softly, eyes pleading. "Hell, maybe we can't do this together, either. But alone I have no chance."

When she closed her eyes, more tears squeezed out and rolled down her cheeks. She didn't bother wiping them away. He was right. Of course he was right. With a deep breath she got up, and turned to face him, only opening her eyes when she was already standing.

"OK," she whispered. _I'll stay. I'll fight. We'll do your best and see if it's enough. I'm not going anywhere._ But all those words seemed too big to make it through her throat that felt like she was choking on all the emotions.

"Yeah?"

She nodded and slowly, hesitantly, he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. It felt like home, more than the house itself or waking up in the bed they bought or drinking coffee from their wedding china. She tightened her arms around him and felt more than heard his sob.

* * *

They were sitting in the living room, Jack in the armchair and Sam curled up in the corner of the couch, when they heard the front door open. Jack didn't react in any way so Sam figured whoever it was had been visiting a lot lately. It was probably Daniel. Teal'c wouldn't just barge in. Cassie might sneak in through the backdoor and start cooking, but Daniel was the only one who would walk in through the front door without an invitation.

When Daniel made his way into the living room, he froze in the doorway. Sam and Jack weren't sitting next to each other, but they were peacefully existing in the same space and that was something that hadn't happened for months.

"Hi," Sam finally said when it became obvious Daniel was unable to form any words.

"Hey," he finally managed and lifted a box that seemed to hold a cake of some kind. He opened his mouth to explain, then just lowered the cake on a little side table without saying a word. His eyes kept flicking between the box and Sam.

"Just spit it out," Jack finally ordered.

"Gracie made me promise we'd celebrate her birthday even when she's not here," Daniel explained, his eyes apologizing.

"So you brought a birthday cake."

Daniel nodded. "Carrot cake. With cream cheese frosting."

Sam gulped her lungs full of air and waited for the suffocating feeling to roll over her like a wave but it didn't come. There was just an overwhelming sadness squeezing her heart, throbbing behind her eyes. She found herself reaching out for Jack's hand over the space that separated their seats, and he squeezed back almost hard enough to leave a bruise.

"I can leave," Daniel whispered.

"You made a promise to our daughter," Jack said firmly but Sam could clearly hear the pain in his voice. "And I don't like people who lie to my little girl."

Sam remembered the time a nurse had told Gracie it would be alright and Jack had given her a proper dressing down like she was an airman who had screwed up on the field.

They never lied to Grace about how serious her condition was. In a way the girl accepted her faith a lot better than her parents ever did though she did get scared sometimes. They never dreamed about future with her, didn't even plan trips more than a week beforehand. They truly had been living every day like it could have been their last.

"What's that?" Sam asked when she saw that Daniel was holding something else in his other hand.

"She, ah... recorded a video message for you. So you wouldn't be so sad."

Sam closed her eyes and swallowed against the tears. Gracie grew up surrounded with video cameras because they wanted to have as much memories about her as possible. But she hadn't been able to watch any of those since she died. It hurt too much to see her laughing and happy when Sam knew she would never hear her laughter again in real life.

"I made no promises about the DVD," Daniel whispered and Sam nodded. That was good, better. She could handle the cake, maybe even pictures of Gracie's last birthday, but a video might be too much. She sighed and got up from the couch. She had borrowed a loose T-shirt from Jack, and she could feel it molding to the obvious baby bump as she straightened. One glance at Daniel confirmed her suspicion that he had noticed as well.

"Not planned, we're keeping it, everything seems normal so far," she listed the facts quickly before he had a chance to ask. "I don't wanna talk about it," she finished.

Daniel nodded and pulled her into a tight hug.

"I'm glad you're here," he whispered. She almost said _'me, too'_ as a reflex but she wasn't sure yet.

* * *

Sam was a week past her due date when she finally pulled out the DVD Daniel brought on Gracie's birthday. Maybe this baby refused to come out was because she hadn't said goodbye to the last one, she figured. It was January, cold and dark, but they had a fire blazing in the fireplace.

Jack put the disc in the player and then made his way to the couch, hesitantly sitting down next to Sam. It was still hard for them to mourn together and they never quite knew what the preferred action or reaction to the other one was, but they were trying. Sam moved closer and put her head on Jack’s shoulder. He tucked them both under the new throw blanket despite the fact that it was warm enough. The throw was dark green like a Christmas tree, with sparkling silver thread in between. It was perfect for cold winter evenings.

“Okay,” she whispered. Jack took a deep breath and pushed play.

Gracie's face filled the screen, close up as she held the camera herself, cutting her forehead and her chin out of the frame in turns as she tried to get a good grip of the device. Her eyes were tired but full of laughter, when the camera finally focused on them. They were blue like her mother's but the shade - blueberry mixed with night sky-  made them look almost like her father's eyes. Her blonde hair was still a little wet from a shower, dark streaks here and there, curling a little around her face which was obviously bothering her. Gracie huffed and pushed the stray hair behind her ear and then waved at the camera.

“ _Hi mommy, hi daddy!"_

She handed the camera to Daniel who took a couple of steps back to bring the whole girl into the frame. Gracie leaned back against the pillows and looked straight into the lens.

_First I’m going to list all the things I love. When I’m not here anymore you need to love them for me, okay? This is very important. I love my mommy and my daddy and my aunts and uncles and Mrs Lin across the street and the blue-haired girl at the store and chocolate ice cream with raspberry sauce and—”_

It was a long list. A really, really long list. And all Sam could think was “I love you. I love you so much and you're not here and I don't think I have any love left for anything else in this world.” She didn’t want to love that old maple tree at the end of the street or fried eggs with ketchup or the neighbor’s ugly cat, though Gracie did have a point that no creature should go unloved just for being ugly. But there was her daughter, so full of love and laughter, and she felt herself starting to smile a little as the girl rambled on.

“ _And I love you I love you I love you, okay?”_ she said and grinned at the camera. Then her expression got serious and Sam realized she was getting to the hard part.

" _Danny says it's like sleeping_ ," Gracie said. _"But no waking up. You know how I hate waking up, Mommy. So it's alright. And you keep the monsters away, Daddy. So I only have good dreams now. Don't be sad. I'm not sad. Goodnight."_

Then she blew two kisses at the camera, frowned a little, and threw a third one. Then she winked and closed her eyes and the camera stopped rolling.

"Maybe she knew," Jack whispered. "That she'd get a baby brother or sister one day."

"Maybe she did," Sam agreed.

Her labor was induced two days later and a day after that they brought Jacob Daniel home with them. One perfectly healthy baby boy, according to all the tests they took in the hospital.

* * *

"Shh..." Sam repeated once again and kissed the boy's forehead gently. "Hush now. It's alright. It's alright..."

It was midnight and Jacob had been screaming for two hours now. They had been taking turns trying to calm him down. Sam had been in charge for twenty minutes now and she felt like she had already managed to walk through the whole house at least fifty times, gently bouncing the boy up and down against her shoulder. He was a fussy baby but they were coping okay so far.

"I love you," she whispered against the boy's temple. She was somewhat surprised about that, awful as that sounded. She had been so focused on her grief throughout the pregnancy that the baby had been more of an afterthought. _Our daughter died seven months ago. Oh, and I'm pregnant._

But when she got the screaming little thing into her arms, she found herself loving this child the same way Gracie loved everything: without reservations or fear, with all she had.

Sam glanced at the door across the corridor from their own bedroom. It was the only room where she hadn't been yet with the child, and she found herself taking hesitant steps towards it.

"Have I told you about your big sister Gracie?" she whispered and ran her fingertips along the bright pink unicorn the girl had insisted on taping to her door. "She was a wonderful little girl. Full of love and sunshine. And brave. So very brave."

The boy was still crying and Sam paused for a moment to adjust her grip, hoping a change in position would help. It didn't.

"This was her room here, and I'm gonna let you in on a secret, little boy. She hated pink." Sam chuckled, and a single tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away with her sleeve. "But she said it keeps the boys away. I think she'd make an exception for you, though."

She lowered her hand on the handle and took a deep breath before pushing the door open.

The air was stale. The door hadn't been opened in almost a year, and Sam hesitated a little before she switched on the light. The room looked like a fairy tale forest, all plush and bright with various shades of green, painted trees on all walls.

"If you didn't guess already," she spoke softly to the boy who probably couldn't hear her over his own wails. "She loved green. All shades of it, every single one. Not just the bright and summery but also the dark, mossy ones.”

She let her eyes circle the room. There was still a pile of dirty clothes on the floor, waiting to be washed. She wondered if they ever would. If she ever could. The queen size bed was made, covered with a beautiful bedspread with squares in two shades of green. It was lower than a normal queen, to accommodate the four-year-old.

"We didn't want to let her out of our sight and she refused to sleep in our room," Sam said to Jacob. "Understandable, really, when she had such a beautiful room right here. So we stayed here with her."

She sat down in the rocking chair and pulled down her top and bra, hoping the boy would latch on this time, after a dozen unsuccessful attempts over the last few hours. Much to her relief he did, and suddenly the room was oddly quiet.

"I thought it would be easier. That if she left in her sleep, at least I was there with her when it happened."

A little push with her foot sent the chair rocking gently, and Sam leaned her head against the back of the chair. She stared out the window for a while. Not that there was much to see at this time of the night, just half a moon and the pale glow of streetlights in the distance.

"I used to sit right here with your sister and read to her. She loved it when I read out loud." Sam swallowed and glanced at the bookshelf. "I was reading to her when she left," she whispered. "Something new. Something she'd never heard before. That was Gracie for you. She didn't have time for favorites, for doing the same things again. There was so much to see, so many stories to hear, and so little time. Somehow she always knew there wasn't much time."

The boy had stopped sucking and Sam suspected he had fallen asleep. She fixed her clothing carefully but didn't dare to move him yet for the fear that he'd start crying again. She couldn't bring herself to stop talking now that the tape was rolling in front of her eyes. She hated the fact that one day she would need the video tapes to remember her daughter's laughter.

"She was eight months when she started walking," Sam whispered. "Always in such a hurry and we were always worrying. Every time she fell we thought... It could have happened anytime. That's what the doctors told us. So we never knew if she'd tripped or if her heart had stopped beating mid step. Every step could have been her last one but we let her walk. We let her run." She took in all the toys, the mini slide in the corner of the room, built to look like a princess castle in the middle of trees. She remembered Grace running and laughing and dancing in this room.

"I guess that's all we could do," she whispered. "Love her, and let her live. I hope it was enough."

"It was," Jack whispered from the doorway, a sad smile on his lips.

Sam had no idea how long he had stood there. She nodded and nuzzled the boy’s soft baby hair, breathing him in. Jack walked past them and cracked the window open, just a little bit, just enough to get fresh air in.

"Come back to bed," he said and offered her his hand to help her up.

They left the door ajar, the pink unicorn in the door moving gently with the little wind.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and please, let me know what you thought.


End file.
